"Footprintsinthesnow" I stand on white snow. Beside me there is the sea, whispering with its heavy waves. This whisper is trying to tell me that there is no way back. And in front of me a familiar footprint in the new snow has just appeared. “Have they come for me? Or am I mistaken? Or is this footprint mistaken?” The old men say that one should not turn round towards the vibrant sound like the song of a woman who had stayed on the shore hoping and longing for her husband, a hunter. “I cannot counteract the strength of my own intuition. I turn my head. I find the answer. I see the footprints in the bright red snow.”